


Galatea

by ivyfic



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-17
Updated: 2010-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyfic/pseuds/ivyfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec knows all about job security—and at Jam Pony the best way to keep his job is to make sure Normal is happy. <i>Very</i> happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Galatea

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through "Freak Nation"

Manticore gave Alec a lot of things. A sharp mind that could learn complicated skills in days if not hours, heightened senses so he was always aware of his surroundings. They gave him training in combat, martial arts, tactics, but also in culture, etiquette, everything he needed to infiltrate enemy territory.

They taught him to survive, above all. Maybe they thought they were teaching him duty and loyalty, but mission objectives meant nothing if you weren't around for the medals, and Alec always knew just when to switch to the winning team.

And they gave him his body. His scientifically perfected, genetically tailored, relentlessly trained body. He supposed the Doctor Frankensteins at Manticore could have stopped with the nomilies—designed to fulfill a role, regardless of what they looked like. But with the X5's they were as much artists as scientists, blending genes to create beauty. Form and function, style and substance. But Alec knew it wasn't out of some urge to bring art into the world—people were more likely to trust the beautiful. Studies had shown it. Large pupils, symmetrical bone structure, all these things broadcast trustworthy, harmless. Take me in. Everything a covert operative needed.

Alec wasn't stupid. He knew what his looks did to people. He was trained to take advantage of it.

~*~

Normal had a crush on him. It was obvious from the first time Alec walked into Jam Pony. Nobody could wax poetic about someone's ab muscles and not be harboring a secret desire to touch them.

It was kind of perfect, really. Alec needed free access to all the sectors in Seattle to secure his business. He needed the Jam Pony messenger badge to travel past checkpoints. And since he needed Jam Pony, he needed Normal. It was a problem—Alec didn't like depending on anyone. Anytime Normal wanted to, he could take away Alec's freedom, and Alec was not okay with that.

Lucky for him, the first time he met Normal, it was like Normal flashed him his soft underbelly. _Here_ , the look in his eyes said, _here's how you can control me. I want you to control me._ Alec was happy to oblige.

~*~

Max hadn't told him about Crash, he suspected that she didn't want him there, but it would have been hard to keep it a secret when that's all any of the messengers talked about after work. He went there every night in the first week—didn't hurt to endear himself to his cohort even if he hadn't made any progress on Normal. Also didn't hurt to solidify his reputation as a guy who could hold his drink; X5's were extremely hard to get drunk. This had served him well in the field, but he couldn't help regretting it.

He was leaning against the bar, pretending to ignore the death glare Max was giving him over the table, when he spotted Normal walking in. He was surprised—it was like a general fraternizing with the troops. Normal headed toward a table at the back. Maybe he was here to meet someone. Well, Alec decided, he could make sure Normal met _someone_ tonight.

He grabbed his beer and headed over to Normal's table, sinking into the chair in his most studied slouch. "Come to see how the other half lives?"

"More like how all you cretins waste your money. It's a Tuesday. No wonder the economy's in the crapper if this is what you do with your paychecks."

"Hey," Alec said, leaning forward. "We're just putting the money back into circulation." He rested his arm on the table, almost touching Normal's hand but not quite. Normal looked jittery—making a move now would scare him off. " _Stimulating_ the economy."

Normal looked at him slightly aghast, then got the guarded expression that clearly said he thought there was some joke he was missing and he was the punchline. "Why don't you go 'stimulate' something else. Shoo!" He waved his hand at Alec, clearly trying to dislodge him. But Alec could see that, despite his show of annoyance, Normal was still casting him furtive glances. He smirked.

"Why, you've got a hot date? Afraid she might see me here and change her mind?" Not likely, Alec thought. Not unless he changed the pronoun in that sentence.

"Ha, ha." Normal crossed his arms.

"Ooo, touchy." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Normal cast his eyes around the room, taking in at least half of his employees. They might be at one of the more secluded tables, but they were still visible. Not a good place to make a move, not unless he wanted to face the rumors tomorrow. Maybe he could get Normal good and drunk, though.

Normal narrowed his eyes. "I should have known it was too good to be true. Who wrote the profile, Mr. Theodore? Sent you over here to take the boss down a peg or two?"

Alec raised his hands. "Hey, I'm just being friendly, here. Nothing wrong with that, right?"

Normal looked at him for a second, and seemed to absolve Alec of guilt. Well, for that scam, anyway. "Look at the time!" he said without checking his watch. " _Some_ of us like to be well rested for work in the morning."

He gathered his coat, not looking at Alec, and headed for the front door.

Good move, Alec thought. Perfect. Now they could talk somewhere more private. _Talk_. Right.

Alec quickly made his way to the back entrance. Wouldn't do to be seen following the boss around. Making a move on him at Crash was risky anyway. But then, Alec had always been fond of risks.

He made his way quickly down an alley to the front of the building. Normal might be waiting for him, but chances were he wasn't. Whether he was picking up on Alec's signals or not, he seemed more the type to panic than to play hard to get. Sure enough, when he turned the corner to the front of the bar, he could see Normal disappearing down the street. He jogged to catch up, startling Normal when he dodged in front of him, planting an arm against the wall, blocking his progress.

"Leaving so soon? I thought we were getting to know each other."

Normal looked at him like he'd suddenly been trapped in a bad porn film. So he wasn't used to being hit on. Alec could work with that. Sometimes it was better, being with someone who was just so grateful. Hopefully he'd be able to convince Normal to take him home, but he could make do with a dirty alley if need be. It wouldn't be the first time.

Alec leaned in, grinning. "Why don't you tell me more about my golden muscles," he whispered, putting as much husk as he could into his voice. "Reagan," he added. Normal looked frozen, mouth half open. Alec pressed his advantage, leaning in to brush their lips together.

Normal jerked his head back, looking at Alec with something like shock. "I'm not gay!"

Alec had heard that before, usually right before the guy pushed his head down to his crotch. "Sure. Of course you're not," Alec murmured, eyes still half-lidded. He leaned in again and this time Normal scrambled back, tripping over a crate and almost losing his balance.

"I'm really not gay! I like women! I like breasts! I've had sex with women! I really really like breasts!" he squeaked.

"Okay…" Alec said, leaning back. If Normal was not seriously in the closet here, what was going on? What was with the looks and the odes to his muscles? A guy like Normal probably didn't expect to land someone like Alec, but if it was handed to him on a platter…Normal really didn't seem like the sort noble enough to turn it down.

"I, um, thanks for—um," Normal stuttered out, then turned and ran the other way. Flat out ran, back stiff and head back, like some strange wind-up toy. Alec doubted he even knew where he was going. Alec dropped his head, leaning harder against the wall. Well, _fuck_. He didn't think he was wrong—Normal's signals were pretty clear—but obviously this was going to be a lot harder than the simple seduction he'd imagined. He could be patient if he had to be. Who'd've thought Normal would be so much work?

~*~

Things were awkward at work the next day. Normal wouldn't look at him, and when he had a package, he left it on the counter for Alec so there'd be no chance of their fingers brushing. He looked embarrassed, but he also looked guilty. Alec barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Like _Alec_ would be heartbroken that Normal had rejected his advances. But that was clearly what the guy was thinking, in that twisted little head of his.

Alec decided to play it casual, walking around Jam Pony with a swing in his step, hopping up onto the counter to make sure Normal got a clear view of what he was missing. Crowding his space whenever Normal emerged from his cage. Oh, he hadn't read the signals wrong at all. Normal couldn't keep his eyes off him.

Neither could some of the female messengers, which turned out to be an unexpected but pleasant diversion.

~*~

His sector pass got him through any checkpoint in the city—theoretically. Except when some drunken idiot decided to get in a fight with the guards and they locked down the entire border. Of course, he could've ducked off into an alley and been over the fence in a matter of seconds, but he liked this bike. It would be a serious pain to have to find another one.

By the time he got back to Jam Pony, it was raining hard and all the other messengers were either home or at Crash already. He dropped his bike unceremoniously as soon as he got in—the thing was the reason he was soaking wet and, god help him, working overtime. It could take some of its own back. Most of the lights were already off. He just wanted to sign out and go home. He slapped his receipt on the counter and was turning back to his bike when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

It was Normal. He was still here—perfectly dry, of course—and reading what looked like a twenty year old issue of Time magazine. For the first time since the disastrous encounter in the alley, the two of them were alone. It was a golden opportunity, but Alec was just too wet and pissed to care.

"Hey, look what the cat dragged in," Normal said, setting aside the magazine. "You haven't been wasting Jam Pony time on personal errands have you?"

Alec could feel his hackles go up. He had the sneaking suspicion he looked something like a wet cat, and he wasn't in the mood for any ribbing. "Yes, it's such a lovely day, I thought I'd go for a stroll in the park, take in the sights." He crossed to his bike. "Some fuck up at a checkpoint. They kept us all standing there for hours." He shook his head, sending a spray of droplets cascading outwards.

He could hear Normal come around the counter behind him. "Home for a hot shower, huh?" he said sympathetically.

"Exactly. If by 'hot' you mean 'freezing,' and by 'shower' you mean 'tub of water.'" He hauled the bike up, kicking the tire, and mumbled, "I'd be better off standing in the rain again."

He hadn't heard Normal approach and was surprised to feel a touch on his shoulder that was quickly withdrawn. He turned to eye Normal. "I've got a shower." The words were quiet and seemed to be the sum total of Normal's courage.

Well, well, Alec thought. He'd been right—not that he'd doubted it. Right now all he was interested in, though, was the shower. Once he'd warmed up he could think about the rest.

He followed Normal through the shabby streets of Seattle. He shouldn't have been surprised that Normal commuted by bike, but somehow he was. It was strange to see him hunched over the bars like one of the messengers. By the time they got to Normal's place, they were both soaked.

Normal lived in an actual apartment complex—he probably even paid rent, a practice Alec objected to on principle. He had a studio on the sixth floor of a walk up, one small room divided into areas by furniture—bed in one corner, kitchen built into what looked like a closet. One wall was all windows, tall and skinny like this had once been a factory. Next to that, Normal had hung a king-sized sheet against one wall. It puzzled Alec for a moment till he realized what it reminded him of—a portrait studio. It looked like a cheap backdrop, but Alec could guess what Normal filmed there. He looked around for a tripod; at least Normal didn't leave it set up. It was a little kinkier than he expected, but Alec didn't mind winding up in some home-made porn. It was really just another advertisement for his man-made assets.

Normal gestured to the small bathroom and handed Alec a few towels. Alec wasn't going to complain about going first. He might even leave some of the hot water for Normal. Maybe.

The water pressure was lousy, but Alec didn't care. It was just a luxury to be enveloped in steam, letting the warmth seep back into him. He heard the door to the bathroom open, and for a moment he thought Normal would join him. At least that way he wouldn't have to worry about hogging the hot water. But after a moment it shut again, and he could hear that Normal had left.

He could not figure this guy out. Alec had given him a hundred openings and every single time he didn't follow the script. He seemed to have a single-minded determination not to get laid, when he clearly wanted to.

When Alec finally stepped out of the shower—it had only just started to cool, so if Normal was quick, he'd be fine—he found a pair of sweats and a t-shirt folded on the tank of the toilet. Normal had spirited his own clothes away. Alec had been figuring on going out in just a towel, or maybe in his altogether, but there was still a bit of a chill in the air, so he pulled on the sweats gratefully.

Normal blurred past him as Alec stepped out of the bathroom. A minute later, he heard the shower turn on, then a little hiss when Normal stepped in. Okay, so maybe he'd let the water cool more than a little. He drifted around the apartment, picking up and putting down little knick-knacks, flipping through the stack of conservative rags next to the couch. It had that lived-in, run-down look of most places in Seattle, a far cry from the antiseptic, Spartan Manticore headquarters. Alec was always angling for a little more luxury in his life—something more like Logan's pad—but he kind of liked the grunge chic, though he'd never admit it. It felt homey. Comfortable.

Normal emerged from the bathroom, wearing dry clothes he must have brought in with him. He'd brushed his hair back, making him look a little more Cary Grant than his usual Urkel. He slid his glasses back on and looked nervously at Alec.

Show time.

Alec stepped out from behind the couch, toying with the hem of his shirt. Normal was skittish, so he planned to take this slow, give him a bit of enticement. He put on his best bedroom eyes and cocked his hip to the side, slowly drawing his shirt up over what he knew were killer abs.

Normal waved his hands in front of him like he was drying nail polish. "Stop! Stop! Stop! What are you doing?"

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Alec asked, prowling toward him. Normal stepped back until he hit the bathroom door. "Why you asked me over?"

"No!"

Okay, this flustered virgin thing used to be cute, but Alec was getting tired of it. He dropped the seductive posture, letting a little of his frustration bleed through. "If you tell me you just asked me over so I could use your shower, I'll know you're lying." Normal looked like he was planning to say just that, then his eyes slid to the side. "You want something or I wouldn't be here and I'm tired of trying to guess what it is."

Normal bit his lip. It would've been cute, except it was _Normal_. The moment stretched out so long, Alec was on the verge of asking for his clothes back and heading out, fuck the rain. Then Normal finally spoke. "Can I draw you?"

It was so quiet Alec was sure he'd misheard. "What?"

Normal cleared his throat. "I'd like to draw you," he said, meeting Alec's eyes.

Alec was taken aback. It was hard to surprise him, but he had to admit, this was a new one. He untied the knot on the sweatpants and started to push them down.

"That's not what I meant," Normal said quickly, one hand over his eyes as if to preserve their innocence. "I mean, just, draw. Like a portrait."

Alec stopped. "You want to draw my portrait?" Normal nodded. "Seriously?" He looked at Normal scrutinizingly for a minute and thought back on everything he'd said over the past few days. He'd _said_ he wasn't interested, but Alec had just thought it was a posture. Maybe it wasn't. "You mean, you don't want to have sex with me."

Normal blushed bright red. "Uh…no. Not that you're not, you know, and I'm really sorry, but—"

Alec waved his fumbled apology aside. He looked out the window where it was still pissing down. There was nowhere he had to be and no reason not to stay where it was dry, at least until the rain stopped. He shrugged. "Okay. How do you want me?"

Normal blushed again at the innuendo. "You can stand or I've got a stool, whichever makes you more comfortable. You'll have to hold still for a while so…"

Alec dragged a stool over and straddled it. He struck what he thought was a regal pose, profile. He'd seen something like it at the Berrisfords. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Normal pull out a large sketch pad and some charcoal, then sit on one of the rickety kitchen chairs.

It was unnerving, Alec thought after a little while. He didn't think his choice of pose was a very good one. He couldn't see the clock, so had no idea if he'd been sitting here for an hour or a few minutes. And he couldn't really see Normal, unless he rolled his eyes all the way to the side, which was straining. He didn't know how much movement was too much movement so he tried not to do anything but breathe. His neck was starting to get stiff.

And the whole time there was this weird crawling sensation, knowing that someone was looking at him with complete focus. He kept wanting to tell Normal to knock it off, but he'd agreed to this and he was damned if he was going to fail as a model.

He'd spent a lot of time at Manticore learning how not to draw attention, how to fade into the background of people's awareness. And a lot of time learning how to draw the right kind of attention, attention he could use to his advantage. Neither one felt like this. Like he was being appraised, like someone was trying to catalogue every surface feature.

He'd stopped paying attention to anything but his own stream of thoughts when Normal broke the silence. "Rain stopped."

Alec twisted to look out the window, enjoying the freedom to move again. He looked back at Normal. "You done?"

Normal nodded, looking at the sketch pad with a slight smile on his face.

Alec bounced to his feet. "Lemme see."

Normal flipped the pad shut with a speed Alec never would have credited him with. "No, uh… I don't show them to anyone."

"Not even the subject?" Alec said with a flirtatious twist that seemed to sail right past Normal.

"No."

Alec stepped back, rolling his neck to work some of the kinks out. Normal was still looking off into the middle distance with a wistful smile, like he'd caught a glimpse of something wonderful and was just trying to hold onto the feeling. That smile filled Alec with an unexpected warmth—not the way he felt about someone he wanted to fuck, just warmth at knowing that he was that something wonderful. He'd put that smile there.

"See you at work, then," Alec said, grabbing his clothes off the clothesline Normal'd hung them on.

Normal looked up at him, snapping into that work mode that Alec now knew was a facade. "Don't think this means you get special treatment. You better be at work on time tomorrow."

"Sure thing, boss," Alec said with a smile. Just as he opened the door he stopped, an unexpected urge seizing him. "Maybe we could do this again some time?"

The facade fell away again when he looked back at Normal. Alec thought he liked this other Normal that no one else got to see. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Mind sitting around while someone strokes my ego for a few hours? Nah. My idea of the perfect evening."

"Sure. I'd—sure."

~*~

It became sort of a regular thing after that. A few times a week, Alec would come back late after his last run of the day, then head over to Normal's apartment. It wasn't like they had a schedule—just some days Alec would catch that wistful look on Normal's face and he'd know that it was the right time.

He got more comfortable after a few times, knew how to sit or stand so he wouldn't tire too quickly. He'd never used his body like this before—just let it _be_ —and he kind of liked it. One day he'd stand with the rigor of all of his Manticore training, another he'd slouch against a wall and just relax.

He worried that maybe he was showing Normal too much of himself, but it was _Normal_. There wasn't a more benign person on the planet. Normal never let him see the drawings, either. Alec assumed this meant that they were terrible, but he found he didn't mind being immortalized in poorly executed drawings. Whether he had any talent as an artist or not, Normal's focus on Alec was complete. Alec liked that.

It took a little while to realize that Normal kept the apartment quite warm when he was there. With the cost of heating a space even as small as this, it must have been a hint, so Alec stripped off his shirt. Normal didn't stop him. Pretty soon after that, the pants followed. After the first time Alec lounged around in nothing but his boxers, Normal set up a little clothes rack for him, and hung a robe there if he wanted it. It was sweet, really.

Alec had been coming over for these little sessions almost three months when he decided to risk stripping completely. Normal didn't say anything, but he blushed to the tips of his ears. It felt liberating, to stand there, completely naked, in front of someone he knew was paying attention to every inch of him. He'd always thought it would be erotic, being examined so closely, but it wasn't. He knew Normal wouldn't touch him. But it wasn't clinical, either, the way the Manticore doctors had always looked at him. It was something in between, like he was the work of art and Normal was just creating cheap knock-offs.

He even posed like the photos he’d seen of David in his cultural training course at Manticore. Nothing blew cover like not knowing a reference, so Manticore made sure no one thought he’d grown up in a cave. Even though for all intents and purposes he had. He thought he saw Normal smirk a little when Alec curved his arm like the famous sculpture. He was about to make a joke about the relative size of the sculpture’s…well…but Normal was already intently focused. An off-color joke might pop this whole bubble they’d been living in.

From this angle, he could watch Normal as he worked. He wondered what Normal saw when he looked at him. When Alec looked in the mirror, he saw Manticore, that shadow he never escaped, it was so far under his skin. He looked in the mirror as little as possible. But Normal…he couldn’t see any of that. Maybe he saw a boxer. That made sense—to admire the muscles Normal had clearly never had. Or maybe he did see someone he wanted, but was too reserved to take. No, reserved wasn’t the word. Courtly. Like the pure love in chivalric tales, to admire from afar but never tarnish. But that would make Alec the fair maiden, and he wasn’t down with that.

Alec studied Normal’s expression to see if it betrayed his feelings. But he just saw concentration. When Normal looked at him, it was never in his eyes. Normal looked at him piece by piece, checking one curve, one shadow at a time. People usually only saw what Alec wanted them to. No one saw all of him. Not his teammates, not his lovers, not the people that now called themselves friends. A soldier couldn’t afford exposure like that.

But when Normal looked at him, Alec got the funny feeling that he did see everything, though he only looked at the surface. Alec had a sudden urge to tell Normal things he’d never told anyone, things about Manticore and the person he’d had to become. He felt like if he did, Normal would already know, and he’d accept him as no one ever had. Normal. How twisted was that?

~*~

One Tuesday, when Alec arrived, there was a divan next to the clothes rack. It was a sad, ratty thing. It must have been pulled off the sidewalk, though it had clearly been given a thorough cleaning. Normal puttered about in the kitchen area, giving Alec the illusion of privacy as he changed, the way he always did.

"Oh," Alec said quietly. Looks like the love wasn’t so courtly after all. It was exactly what he’d been trying to get Normal to do from the beginning. But as he looked at the expanse of reclining cushion, just perfect for a lover’s embrace, he felt his heart speed up and every muscle go tense. He was— He didn’t quite know. In some fucked up way, he’d come to like this, like Normal looking at him but never touching, just _one person_ in his entire life who wanted nothing more from him than to be in the same room.

Well, Normal was the same as everyone else. Weirder. But no better. It was what he expected. So why did he feel so goddamned disappointed?

He removed his clothes stiffly, his mind slipping to that place that let him do whatever he had to. When he was naked, he stared at the divan a moment longer before lying back on the cushions, trying not to think about what the faded stains were. He propped himself against the side, spreading his legs. When Normal turned back to the room—clearly he’d been listening and only faking an interest in whatever was in the kitchen—Alec forced himself to put an invitation on his face he didn’t feel. And he hated himself for it.

Normal didn’t look at him at first; when he did, he let out a little frustrated noise. "Wait, sorry, I meant to—" He crossed the room and disappeared beneath his bed, returning with a sheet.

"Of course," Alec said with a smile, rolling to his feet. Wouldn’t want to be getting the piece of shit couch any dirtier.

Normal fussed over the sheet, which had small, faded flowers all over it like something someone’s mother would buy. He tucked it as best he could between the cushions, probably to anchor it. God forbid it slipped off. "Okay," Normal said and stepped back.

Alec lowered himself again, onto the cold but clean sheet. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself one deep breath to get the fuck over this, and then he opened them. Show time.

But Normal was in his usual spot, perched on a chair, sketchpad and charcoal in hand. This was—it wasn’t—

The last time he’d been here, Alec realized, he’d said something about getting tired standing for so long. Normal must’ve looked all over for this sad little divan so Alec would be comfortable.

Relief and something a bit like affection broke over him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Some time later, he jerked awake when he felt cloth brush over him.

"Didn’t mean to wake you," Normal said, straightening up. Alec looked down at himself. Normal’d been putting a blanket over him. The light from the windows had changed, moved into evening. He’d fallen asleep. He never fell asleep in front of other people. He just didn’t do it. But he’d fallen asleep in front of Normal.

"Sorry, just didn’t want you to catch cold," Normal continued, oblivious to Alec’s thoughts. "Not that you ever do. I mean, being a strapping specimen of manhood and everything. I mean, you can go back to sleep. If you want. Of course, why would you want. Probably want to go back to your own bed, places to go—"

"Sure." Alec interrupted him. The smile on his face was real. He wondered when he’d let that happen. "Don’t mind if I do." He burrowed back under the blanket. The angle was a little awkward, and his feet stuck off the end. It was perfect.

Before he’d finished the thought, he was back asleep.

~*~

"What the fuck is this, Alec?" Max’s fist hit him in the chest, hard. She was waving a stack of papers at him like that should mean something.

"What?" he drawled, closing his locker. Max was pissed at him. Must be Thursday.

"This," she hissed, waving the papers in his face, and this time his eyes caught on them. They were large sheets of paper, like the ones Normal liked to sketch on. He pulled one out of Max's grip and turned it over. Not just like what Normal used, no, these were what Normal used. They were Normal's sketches.

The one he held showed him from the shoulders up, looking into the distance. There was a look in the eyes in the drawing—weariness, but a touch of hope. It looked like some beleaguered rebel hero, looking toward the future. Alec tried to remember when it could have been drawn, but he didn't remember ever having an expression like that on his face. The eyes drew his gaze back. There was something about them, something that made him feel—

"What the fuck?" Max's voice broke into his thoughts. "You're fucking Normal? You are, aren't you."

"What?" Alec tried for scornful disbelief, but something about Normal's portrait left him unsettled. "It's not like that! We're not sleeping together!" He tried to grab the other drawings, but Max pulled them away. Thank god it was early enough that no other messengers were around to hear them. The thought of other people thinking that about Normal—he just didn't like it.

"You're not. Right. So he has drawings of your dick just because it was there?" With that, she pulled one out of the stack and shoved it at him.

It was a drawing of his dick, all right, but it was a drawing of the rest of him, too. He knew when this one had been done—it was that day on the divan, when he'd fallen asleep. Somehow, through Normal's hand, he looked like motion and power, caught at a moment of rest. Like a warrior. But vulnerable, too. It was beautiful. And though he'd looked at himself in the mirror many times and known objectively that he was beautiful, looking at this, it was the first time he felt it, too.

Alec reached out to brush his fingers over his sleeping face. "He just likes to draw. He doesn't touch."

"Yeah, he draws your dick and then beats off to it later—you know what, this is disgusting." She looked at the drawing again, a sneer on her face, before throwing the entire stack on the ground.

Alec scrambled to pick them up, keep them from getting wrinkled. She was twisting this, making it into something ugly and sordid. "It's not like that! It's not about sex. It's—I don't know—pure."

"Pure," her eyes scanned him from toes to hairline, the sneer never leaving her face. "You. Pure. Right." In that moment, she looked at him like the Manticore commanders had when telling him to cultivate an intimate relationship with Berrisford's daughter. Like he couldn't possibly have feelings on the matter, like, because he was made in a lab, he couldn't understand anything deeper. Like his body was just a tool to be used, like that was all he was. But he had no words to explain that, not even to Max, who, of all people should understand.

"Look," Max continued, her disgust melting into protective anger. "I know Normal's a pain in all of our asses, but he's _our_ pain-in-the-ass. And he's…susceptible. If you screw with him—or _screw_ him—I'll cut that pretty dick right off."

She stormed off, leaving him to pick up the drawings.

~*~

When Alec got a chance later that day, he pulled out the drawings to look at them again. He'd assumed that Normal's reluctance to show them to him was because Normal wasn't any good. He was the boss of a floundering messenger service; Alec had assumed just from that that he couldn't possibly be more than an amateur at anything.

But these drawings—they were more than just portraits. The rendering of the figures, the shading, the detail, that was all skilled, of course, but the way the backgrounds faded away around Alec, the way the drawings seemed to draw the eye to Alec's face, the way Normal had captured something strong but vulnerable there that Alec had never seen in himself—

He folded them carefully and tucked them back into his jacket where they wouldn't get wet in the threatening rain. Looking at them made something ache deep inside him; they were almost too much. What Normal had seen in him he didn't think he'd let anyone ever see. He realized he never relaxed, not completely, not in Manticore and not since, not even when he was by himself. But at some point he'd let himself relax around Normal. That thought terrified him. But he didn't want to give it up, either.

~*~

When he got to Normal's that night, Normal was frantic. He was looking in cabinets and under the bed. He'd clearly already gone through his bag several times. When he heard Alec come in, he looked up. "I don't know where they are." His eyes were enormous. "I thought I brought them to work, but they weren't in my bag, so I thought I'd left them here and oh, god. What if I lost them?" He looked at Alec. "I am _so_ —"

Before he could finish, Alec drew the sketches out of his jacket. "I took them from your bag. I know you didn't want me to look, but I was just curious. Sorry."

Normal took them back, running his hands over them, paging through to make sure everything was there. When he got to the last drawing, he let out a breath in relief.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

Normal's relief quickly changed to apprehension as he looked at Alec. "You looked at them?"

Alec moved closer and put his hand over Normal's on the drawings. "They're beautiful."

"You think so?"

"Really."

Normal looked down. "I was going to go to art school, but then the Pulse, and my scholarship went pffft, and well..."

"They're really beautiful."

Normal gave him a small smile.

Alec only stuck around for a little while after that. It was clear Normal was too anxious to draw him. It was like some spell had been broken, like whatever had given Normal the confidence in the first place had vanished.

As Alec rode home that night, he hoped that in a few days they could get back to their routine. If he had to convince Normal that he was okay with modeling, he would. Even with Max knowing, with seeing how much he revealed to Normal when he modeled, those few hours were a freedom he didn't want to give up.

But then things went to hell between the humans and the freaks, and there were hostages at Jam Pony, and he was shot, and Normal finally knew, and nothing was ever going back to routine ever again.

~*~

"Hey, Alec!" Alec looked up from the transmission he was working on to see Mole approaching. Mole gestured behind him. "Some normal wants to talk to you."

Mole moved and Alec saw who it was—not _a_ normal, _Normal_ , glasses, flat-top, and all. Alec hastily wiped his hands on his jeans and walked toward him.

"What are you doing here, Normal? Are you nuts?" Things had calmed into an uneasy truce since the freaks had declared their own nation, but it wouldn't last, and Terminal City was still no place for anyone without a barcode on their neck.

"I brought you these," Normal said, pulling something out of his jacket. "I thought you might like them." They were all of Normal's drawings of him. Of course.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" Some of Alec's anxiety turned his voice gruff, but he took the drawings anyway.

"Whatever you want. Burn them?" His lips quirked up, bittersweet at the thought. "Just thought you might breathe easier if you knew where they were."

"You don't have to do that. I know you wouldn't do anything with 'em."

"Look," Normal said, plowing ahead. Clearly he had a speech planned and Alec's interruptions weren't going to derail it. "I know you were using me. To get a sector pass. I'm not that dense; I do know why people work for me. But that's okay. I don't mind. It was worth it, to get to draw someone as special as you." A blush was creeping up his neck, and he couldn't look directly at Alec, but he pressed on. "I mean, people aren't exactly beating down my door to model, right? Having you there, it was like some of that…reflected on me."

Alec looked around, hoping nobody was around to hear this. As Normal talked he got that same feeling in his chest he'd gotten sometimes in his apartment, and this was not the place to be feeling like that. He needed to say something to stop Normal from talking, but he hadn't a clue what.

Normal shrugged. "And I wanted to apologize. For everything I said about you and the other—" he gestured around, as if unsure what term would be acceptable.

"Naw, man, it's okay. Don't worry about that. I mean, we are freaks, right? I get it."

"No, it wasn't, and I wanted—"

"You really shouldn't be thanking me for this, anyway," Alec gestured with the drawings. "I mean, it's not like god made me, right? You should really thank the scientists at Manticore. If they weren't all dead. They made this."

Normal finally looked at him. "That's where you're wrong. I don't pretend to know anything about this…gene splicing or whatever, and they may have mixed things in test tubes, they may have picked out your strength and your bone structure, but that's _what_ you are, not _who_ you are. That's not what I drew. All that," he pointed to the drawings, "that's _you_. You are more than what they made."

"Yeah." Alec swallowed past something in his throat. He looked at the drawings, at his hands, and for a moment he saw what Normal saw, something more than skin and bone and muscle, more than the training and indoctrination. There was something under there that wasn't Manticore at all. Then he blinked his eyes and it was gone.

"So," Normal said, the awkwardness that had been gone a moment ago flooding back. "Good luck with this whole nation thing. If you ever need a package delivered, know you've got a friend out there."

"Yeah."

"I'll just be, uh…is your friend still around? Could I maybe get him to take me back to the gate?"

Normal was walking away, and Alec realized with sudden clarity that he probably wouldn't be seeing him again, not till this whole thing was over, if it ever was. "I wasn't using you."

"Oh," Normal said, stopping.

"Well, yeah, I was at first, but it was…nice."

Normal smiled.

Alec raised his voice. "Mole, can you make sure my friend gets back safe?"

"No problem," Mole said, coming back over from wherever he'd gone.

"Be careful out there," Alec said, extending his hand to Normal.

Normal grasped it firmly and gave one good shake. "Yeah. You, too."

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my hard drive for literally two and a half years. Every time I was trying to get back into writing I'd pick it up again, watch a few eps, and work on it a bit, then it would disappear back into its folder. So it is a relief to finally have it done! Thanks to [](http://jethrien.livejournal.com/profile)[**jethrien**](http://jethrien.livejournal.com/) for being my beta, even though she hasn't seen _Dark Angel_ in years.


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